Ladies and gentlemen: tomorrow, Goodbye Victoria will be playing at the Mars Bar. The show starts at 9pm, costs $6, and also features Aaron Mannino and Eric Miller, who you will totally love if you like Nebraska-era Bruce Springsteen, M Ward, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's Howl, the demos from Elvis Costello's My Aim Is True, and, obviously, Bob Dylan. I would love to see yous there!
Heh, my brother is going to be playing drums for a production of The Rocky Horror Show in January. Some one-off University of Washington production. I... words fail, my friends. Words fail.
Holy shit, my mother, you guys, has been RUNNING AMOK. She and Melissa went shopping together, and my mom actually uttered the following words: "I can't wait until you and Mark have babies." Until we have... right. GOOD ONE, MOM! FEEL FREE TO SKIP RIGHT OVER THE DISTURBING-ENOUGH "WHEN ARE YOU AND MARK GETTING MARRIED?" AND HEAD STRAIGHT FOR PROCREATION PRESSURE! THAT'S PERFECTLY NORMAL! I totally wish Melissa would have said, "Well, actually... I wanted to tell everyone at once, but since you brought it up, I'm due in July." BOOM, REVERSAL!
I can only imagine what's coming out of my mom's mouth in regards to my sister and her new husband. Probably a bunch of opinions on where they should send the child-that-my-sister-isn't-pregnant-with to college.
Every single day, without fail, there is the same advertisement from Comcast in my mailbox. This makes me feel like maybe I'm in the movie Memento. Like, at the end of the day, I'm going to realize, "GOD, this digital cable, internet, and digital voice package is SUCH a great deal, and I'm going to FORGET ABOUT IT tomorrow! Mailman! I... I know this sounds crazy, but could you have this advertisement sent to me every single day of the week? Maybe somehow, I can then piece it together that I'm supposed to order this package..."